


The Red Shoes

by catharticallysarcastic



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 13:36:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17529707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catharticallysarcastic/pseuds/catharticallysarcastic
Summary: Karen deserves new shoes and Frank knows this, too.





	The Red Shoes

“I swear to god, Foggy if it's another chicken...”  
“You're going to make a mind blowing stew?” He grinned at her and in spite of her greatest efforts to keep a straight face, Karen couldn't help but chuckle quietly. One of their client kept sending them living, breathing chickens as a sign of their gratitude and she was having enough of running around in the office each time either Matt or Foggy was inattentive enough to let them out of the back office.  
“I don't think that's something anyone would want.” Her cooking was infamously bad, so bad one time she was told she could win a war with only giving her food to the enemy.  
“Hi. Karen Page?” The young boy in the door held a box that was certainly not a chicken finally.  
“Good afternoon. Yes, that's me.” She took the pen from him, eyeing the package suspiciously. She didn't order anything, she couldn't even if she wanted to, considering she barely earnt anything lately.  
“Sign here.” The boy pushed the papers under her nose, balancing it on the top of the box. Karen signed quickly and the boy was gone before she could even say bye. She closed the door, staring at the box in her hands.   
“Who sent it?” Foggy asked as she turned it around, looking for the answer for the question.  
“I don't know.” She admitted and sat back to her desk, chewing on her bottomlip. The package had an oddly familiar scent but the paper did as well and the mix confused her enough not to be able to place it.  
“I don't think you should open it.” He warned, his voice alerted immediately and she nodded. No, she didn't think so either. She leant forwards in her chair and studied the box when the scent, heavy smell of evergreen hit her nose. “Karen, seriously...” Foggy jumped from his seat as she ripped the box open.  
“It's not a bomb.” She held the pair of red shoes up, a grin spreading over her face.  
“It could have been,” he grumbled with a shake of his head.  
“But it wasn't.” She put the shoes on the floor, kicked off the slippers she wore around in the office and slipped her feet into her new obsessions. The heels were actually beautiful and incredibly comfortable as well. Karen threw the papers from the box, hoping she'd get a message at least but there was nothing and her face fell.  
“Who sent you shoes?” Foggy asked, amused.  
“A friend of mine,” she replied with a sad smile, closing the box, accepting there was no hidden message. But at least he was thinking of her.  
She was already spread over on the couch, a book in her hands, a bottle of beer next to her on the table when the knock came from the door. Karen grabbed the gun from next to her on the table and stood as quietly as possible.  
“It's me.” She heard the husky voice from the hall and lowered the weapon in her hand.  
“Frank.” She opened the door, the gun still firmly in her hand, her face showing anything but that she was pleased with this situation. His eyes fell on the gun right away of course, earning an approving little nod before he let his gaze wander over her and stop at her feet.  
“Your shoes really compliment your pajamas,” he cleared his throat, a small smile playing over his face. Karen didn't smile though, not even a tiny bit of lifting of her lips. “The lady in the shop said you'd love these. I told her they would be for a strong, hard headed woman. She said these would be the perfect choice.”  
“She wasn't wrong.” Karen nodded, tapping her feet lightly on the floor. “Why are you here, Frank? Do you want your shoes back?”  
“No, no, I... I hardly believe they'd fit me as well as you.” He laughed sheepishly, swinging lightly as he glanced away. “Can I come in?”  
“I don't know, Frank, honestly, I don't know.” She shook her head, moving her gaze from him.  
“I'll never let your shoes get lost again in vain.” He tilted his head to the side, a playful little half smile playing over his face and she couldn't hold her straight face any longer.  
“I didn't lose them in vain, I gave them up for a worthy cause.” She corrected him with a smile pulling her lips upwards.   
“Can I come in, Karen?” He stepped to her, his scent, the familiar smell of evergreen mixing with gunpowder and cheap soap filling her nostrils. “Please.”  
“No more shoes given up for just a greater cause?” She breathed against his lips, her heart hammering loud against her ribcage. She felt slightly dizzy as he backed her into the apartment, not touching, not even with a finger but his presence wrapped around her tightly, embraced her entire being.  
“I won't promise that but you'll always get compensation from now on... If you still want it.” He muttered just a breath away from her lips.  
“Yes.” She breathed barely audible but it was more than enough for Frank. He kicked the door shut behind him and pulled her hard against his body, their lips sealing together in a kiss they'd both been waiting for too long, a kiss that was certainly worth the wait.


End file.
